


Champagne comes in a flute

by Mars_McKie



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: BroTP!John and Penelope, Drunkenness, drunk!John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 19:46:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13418367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mars_McKie/pseuds/Mars_McKie
Summary: John gets dragged along to a social event by his father. Penelope has a way to help him deal with the butterflies in his stomach.





	Champagne comes in a flute

John sat poker straight with what could only be described as a look of absolute terror on his face as he stared unseeingly ahead. The newly 18-year-old fidgeted nervously with his cufflinks on his brand new black Armani suit (so like the ones that Scott usually wore in these situations), the formal clothes completely alien to him despite his upbringing.

His father sat next to him on the backseat of the silver Rolls, looking far more relaxed as he swilled a Bourbon on the rocks around in its glass. Jeff noticed his son’s fidgeting and nudged him lightly with his elbow. “It’s just a Charity auction, John. There’s no reason to panic.”

This wasn’t true- John could think of around a thousand things to panic about where tonight was concerned, from this being his first public appearance since the age of 10, to the slightly more fictional worry of making a fool of himself by dropping Vol-au-vents on some snobbish high-class person’s shoes, but he kept his mouth shut.

The car pulled up to the front of a five star hotel in the middle of LA where a number of paps were crowded, trying to get snaps of the celebrities and socialites in attendance. As the chauffeur opened the rear passenger door, John attempted to rearrange his face into a more natural smile, but in reality looked closer to being constipated.

He stepped out after his father and was immediately blinded by the flashing lights. Tripping slightly, he somehow made it into the hotel foyer where he was greeted by a familiar face.

“Hello John,” said his friend Penelope. The sight of her relieved some of the butterflies in his stomach, particularly when she slipped his arm through hers and guided him towards where the dinner and auction would be taking place. “You’ll be sitting on the same table as father and I. I hope that’s quite alright?”

“Thanks, Penny,” John murmured. “How do people find these kind of gatherings appealing?” Penny considered him and took two flutes of champagne from a passing tray, handing one of them to John.

“Here- drink this. It will help with the nerves, and I’ll help you with the pomp and circumstance.”

John knocked back the champagne and Penny laughed at the expression on his face as the bubbles filled his throat and stomach. In the following conversations, John found himself stumbling less over his words until they were finally sat at the table with both their fathers and John was able to carry a coherent conversation with the other guests on their table. Jeff didn’t quite understand the change in his son, but he smiled nonetheless.

After the main course had been taken away, things went downhill for John again. Both Penny and his father had disappeared somewhere, and he had been cornered by the Duchess of Royston who seemed intent on describing -in full detail- her penthouse accommodation for the night.

He stuttered and backed away nervously, when another tray of champagne drifted by. He grabbed another glass and knocked it back for courage. This was much better. Everything the Duchess was saying was starting to make sense. John noticed that the pyramid-shaped lampshades looked rather like hats. He wondered if the Duchess realised this as well...

*

The world around him felt soft though his body weighted as much as if he were sleeping on the surface of Jupiter. His eyes protested being opened as his body protested moving, so he remained there for an indiscernible amount of time.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, John recognised these were his starry bedsheets which meant he was back in his own bedroom. Shifting slightly, he realised at some point he had lost all of his clothes from the previous night.

There was a glass of water set on his bedside table which he reached for gratefully. The movement must have triggered a sensor as a moment later his father appeared on his bedroom holocomm. John could make out his father’s desk, which meant he was checking up on him from work.

“Afternoon, John,” he said gruffly.

“Dad?” John managed to croak.

“It goes without saying that you’re grounded for the next month,” said Jeff, his face stern. As John felt incapable of anything at that moment, the idea of not moving appealed greatly to him, until his father added: “Grandma is downstairs with your list of chores. You will make a start in the next hour while I talk to damage control.”

John groaned as the hologram disappeared. Why he had hoped for mercy he didn’t know, but at the mention of the Tracy Industries lawyers he only wished he knew what he had done to merit this.

Seeking answers, John pulled up Penelope’s contact on the holocomm. She answered with the biggest and cheekiest grin.

“Penny, what the hell happened last night?” said John, doing away with the pleasantries.

Penny laughed. The sound echoed through John’s skull. “I can see you’re paying the price for it today!”

“I’m grounded.”

“So am I. Daddy thinks I got you drunk on purpose.”

“How many did I have?”

Penny bit her lip. “Two glasses of champagne.”

“What?” John knew he was a bit of a lightweight compared to his older brothers, but that was ridiculous. "But what happened? Penny, I can’t remember anything."

Penny seemed to glitter at the memory. “You were dancing on the table with a lampshade on your head.”

John’s eyes went wide. “Dancing?”

“I believe it’s called Twerking.” John had no idea what twerking was, but Penny continued- “I’m having you as my date for all Charity events from now on!”

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my Tumblr here- https://marsmckie.tumblr.com/post/169303135451/champagne-comes-in-a-flute  
> Part of a small series of Drunk!Tracys stories instigated by @wonderavian and written for @countessofsnark


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